Royal Pain In The Ass Spanking
by Pie 555
Summary: Our favorite Prince finds himself under the care of a mighty warrior on Planet Vegeta. A warrior who isn't afraid to give him the spanking he rightfully deserves! Maybe in this universe, Vegeta won't grow up to be such an asshole!


**Note: This Fic was not written by me. I had it commissioned for me this month by 'Troll Crew'. He is a great guy and an amazing writer as you will see. I requested full ownership of this Fic and he allowed it since it features my OC 'Rote'. If your a fan of Naruto, Dragon Ball or My Hero Academia Spanking/Yaoi content I would suggest following me and him. (Since future commissions will more then likely end up on his profile.) Oh and you can expect a new Fic from me...well, rather him every month since I will continue to commission Fics from him.**

**Warning: Features Spanking and Nudity of an Underage Character**

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His screams echoed across the arena as he weakly struggled out of his opponent's grip. General Nappa was a Mid-Class Warrior, and a respected one at that. Few Saiyan's save for those of the Elite class could properly face him in a fight. With just two other Low-Class Warriors, he'd turn a civilization to ash and have a Frieza Force ship come and pick him up in an hour in time for a second dinner.

But today, his face was in the dirt with the boot of another Saiyan on his back, pulling his arm back further and further, Nappa screaming the grown Saiyan tried to get away. He was one of King Vegeta's best soldiers, but now he was being manhandled like a Saibaman. He didn't know it, but he was tangling with an Elite-Class Warrior and he earned that rank. The Saiyan wore a blue jumpsuit, having ditched his armor as he wouldn't need it and he was showing just how much he didn't need it.

Sand stuck to his long and wild black hair, with black eyes leering down at the proud general under his boot heel. He was well built like any Saiyan warrior would be, with a face that showed no sign of true hatred or malice-no, more like annoyance that he was called from his home by King Vegeta just to kick around this meathead.

"That's enough, Rote. Release him." King Vegeta's voice echoed through the arena, the Saiyan King starting to float down his seat and onto the ground below. Rote had let go of Nappa's arm as it fell to the ground with a _'THUD'_. He approached his king once his boots touched the dirt. "You've done well, Rote. About what I had expected, honestly."

"Thank you, King Vegeta." He said it as a formality; Rote didn't necessarily care for or against the Saiyan Royal court, he just had a general distaste for others in general. It was why he preferred the company of nobody and lived in a solitary hut deep in the barren deserts. "Did you summon me here just to beat your general into the dirt?"

"No." Vegeta spoke simply and bluntly. Almost like a savage; but he was far from a thug in a cape. 'Simple' was the best term for the King of the Saiyans-he didn't flattery one with flowery language or make things more complicated then he needed to be. Even if he didn't intimidate Rote, he certainly had a heavy pressure around him that demanded respect. 'I have an assignment for you. It's not as simple as just clearing out a planet for sale. It's one that requires your sense of tact and your noticeable Power Level."

Rote raised an eyebrow to his king. He sure was getting to the chase. He watched as King Vegeta held up a small device and a projection of a much younger Saiyan appeared before the two. He was a boy, couldn't have been more than seven, and looked like a young King Vegeta. Rote didn't care much for politics, but it didn't take a scientist to put together that this was the King's son.

"My son, Prince Vegeta, is a prodigy." Rote heard that before from many parents of Elite Saiyan children. The word itself made him disgusted, but he fought back his natural urge to roll his eyes. "He's already made Elite Class with his raw power. But he's still a boy and that raw material needs to be bent and made into something much greater."

"You're asking me to train your son?" Rote could see the small grin that seemed to form, but then vanish from the King's face. "You don't ask for the impossible, but why are you asking for a hermit like me to train him? There must be plenty of Elite that would give up their tails for the chance to train with the Prince. (To be in your good graces without needing to bend down and kiss your boots.)

"Normally, you'd be correct." The King pressed the button, the projection of the Prince vanishing as he pocketed the device. "However, I feel my son has gotten too big for his britches. He has every right to be proud of his strength, but his ego is growing out of control. With every trainer I send it, he sends them running and begging to be relieved of their duty."

Rote watched as King Vegeta give a chuckle. "At first, I found it amusing." Then his face hardened like stone. "But now, now it's becoming a problem. His attitude is becoming disrespectful and unbecoming of my heir. And with his constantly rising power level, there is little that even many of the Elite can do." Vegeta's eye looked to the side and Rote followed them to the struggling Nappa on the ground, who was weakly trying to recover to his feet. "What you did to Nappa there is no different from what my son is capable of doing to him."

"No, that's not quite right. Rather, my son is capable of doing something quite similar."

"I see." Rote nodded, crossing his arms to the King. "I understand what you're asking me, my lord. However, I have conditions." He watched King Vegeta's face contort in concentration. Rote could see it in Vegeta's eyes, the desperation of a parent and the determination to do whatever it took. The Elite was sure he could ask for almost anything from his lord and he'd almost surely get it. "I won't train your son in the capital. The desert wastelands and their harsh conditions would do your son some good, getting him use to not having the safety net of royal comforts."

"Understood."

"Second, even if he is a Prince, he cannot outrank me while I am training him. Regardless of how strong he is, if he has the authority to simply make commands and if I am forced to yield, then he will abuse his royal privilege." Rote watched King Vegeta nod without even so much as a flinch. "Finally, I want the power to deal with your son how I see fit. As his trainer, I need the ability to distill discipline how I see fit."

With a final nod, Rote had begun to raise his hand to his mouth. King Vegeta did the same, both of them biting at the thumbs as blood began to pour. The two hands shook hands, their blood mixing and falling to the dirt beneath their feet. The agreement was as binding as any contract. Hence forth, it was official; Rote would be the trainer of Prince Vegeta.

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Their boots clicked through the halls of the castle, the two men walking past the foyer. The two walked in silence; not quite comfortable in their presence, but exactly awkward or uncomfortable. The two were just on business. As the two approached the throne room, there was another 'CLICK' noise that echoed. King Vegeta knew it was the sound of his son, the young Prince Vegeta, getting off of his throne to wait as the dutiful son that he was.

Once the doors were opened and they entered the room, Rote and King Vegeta saw the young Prince, standing at attention. He put his right fist into an open palm before gave a bow to his father, only acknowledging Rote when he stood back up. He had paced his Saiyan Armor back on over his suit and managed to clean the sand out of his spiky mane.

"My son," King Vegeta began, gesturing to the Saiyan beside him, "this is Rote. He will be your latest instructor." Rote watched the young Prince, but his body didn't seem to move so much as a centimeter. "Starting today, you will address him and respect him as such.

"Is that right?" His voice had a noticeable drag, the young Prince began to look up and down Rote to try and gauge him. He was a foot short then his father, who towered over all Saiyan's at 7'4, and had a face that was just as unmoving. It was unnerving to the Prince; every Saiyan that had come to be his instructor looked incredibly tense. Even the most stoic had sweat dripping down her neck, but Rote looked eerily calm.

All the greater of a challenge to break him, the Prince thought. He performed the same bowing gesture to Rote, but the Elite Warrior noticed that Vegeta had swapped hands. It was a subtle form of disrespect; the Elite knew of it very well. They often gave it to the rest of the Frieza Force, as they didn't know-or perhaps just didn't care-about Saiyan Customs and wouldn't notice it. Rote fought the urge to show his annoyance, he couldn't let the Prince know that this bothered him.

When he stood back up, the young Prince had told Rote, "I look forward to training under you."

"We'll see how long you feel that way."

King Vegeta spoke before his son could question this further. "Son, as part of your training, you will be going out into the desert wasteland outside of the capital." That statement got a reaction from the Prince as he turned to face his father in astonishment. "You will follow Rote into the wasteland and live under his care. Once you leave the capital, your status of Prince will be null and void and will be expected to follow Rote's instructions."

"You cannot be serious!"

(There it is.) Rote thought as the young Prince approached King Vegeta.

"Father, you can't just do this to me! I am your son and the Prince of all Saiyan's!"

"You are my son, yes." King Vegeta spoke, "but this is for your own sake. You are strong, but Rote here will make you stronger."

The Prince began to grind his teeth as he glared at his father, "you've said that about all the others and all of them have failed! You can't just take away my rank for some nobody!"

"Insolent little-" Before the King could continue, he heard Rote walk towards the door before he suddenly stopped, turning around and facing the royal family.

"My liege," Rote began, "perhaps the Prince would prefer a demonstration of what his training will be like." He then began to take a fighting stance, his right arm up to guard, but his left arm was left hanging low, close to his chest and seemingly lax. "This demonstration won't take long."

"...Very well." King Vegeta levitated off of the ground, floating across the room and sat down in his throne. "My son, if you can beat your new trainer here and now, then I won't send you off." The young Prince smirked, but the King was quick to add, "fail, and if you do not bring yourself to heel to his demands, then I will banish you." It was said so coldly and callously that the child couldn't help but flinch.

"Yessir." When facing his father, he gave the proper salute and bowed to him. When he turned to Rote, however, the young Prince smirked as he grabbed at the cape on his armor and tossed it aside. Prince Vegeta bared a toothy grin as he took his own stance, the traditional stance of an Elite-Class Saiyan. "Heh, do you really think that you can handle me?! You wouldn't be the first mentor I had that couldn't stack up to my power!"

Rote didn't give a response to the haughty Prince, bringing him to scowl. After all, he was the Prince of all Saiyans! How dare he be ignored?! Even if he was a Saiyan Elite, he wasn't just some child. Rote wasn't the first one to see him as just some kid and he sent every last one of them crawling away and begging his father to be demoted to cooks! This 'Rote' would be no different!

Prince Vegeta dashed right for Rote, cutting through the air like a hot knife through butter, giving a battle cry. Rote watched intently as young Vegeta went flying for his slacked left. A combat genius, of course Vegeta would go for the side where his guard was down, no doubt the Prince felt as though the Saiyan Elite was underestimating him.

But the Prince had taken Rote's bait like a fish.

The Elite Saiyan's fist flew from his chest and bopped Prince Vegeta right in his nose, causing him to recoil while still in the air. It was so fast; it came in a split second and Vegeta didn't even see it coming. He had no time to regain his footing, as Rote was suddenly on top of the young Saiyan, a chopping left came down onto the boy, landing right across his face and sending him flying down to the ground below. Rote had to admit, he was impressed by the Prince's instinct to roll with the punch, as the heavy handed Saiyan could've broken his jaw otherwise. It's not like Rote was concerned about maiming the boy when there was a healing pod right in the other room.

Now, however, the young Vegeta was furious. The Prince had a ball of energy forming in his palm and he fired it at Rote, but he side-stepped around it and already had a leg raised up to punt the boy. Vegeta rolled away to avoid the kick before he jumped at Rote again.

"Bastard!" Young Vegeta threw a hard punch, but Rote easily caught the incoming attack. There was a loud 'CRACK' that echoed through the room as Rote put the pressure upon the Prince's fist, getting him to howl. "Let me go!" Vegeta twisted in the air, trying to kick Rote in his neck, but suddenly, Vegeta began to fly through the air as Rote began to swing him in an upward arc, ending with Vegeta getting smashed into the ground like a hammer to a nail. A crater was formed into the floor as Vegeta coughed up spit, weak coughs echoing from his heaving chest.

"There. You're let go." Rote stood back up properly as he watched Prince Vegeta spring back up and fly to the other side of the room. His face was covered in bruises and he was panting heavily. "Are we done, my Prince? Or are you ready to submit?"

"Shut up!" Prince Vegeta curls his fingers and places both his hands together at chest-level, facing the same direction so that the palm of one hand is on the back of the other. He put both hands behind his back as bright fuchsia energy began to form into his hands. He snarled like a wild animal at the Elite Saiyan as he shouted, "don't you EVER talk down to me, you trash! I am Prince Vegeta, my father's blood and the blood of all Kings flow through my veins and I will NOT BE TALKED DOW TO!" He jumped into the air, aiming his attack down at a slight angle to fall right on top of Rote. "Galick Gun!" A bast of pure energy flew across the room to engulf Rote, an explosion echoing through the throne room.

King Vegeta was less-then impressed as the Prince panted. He smirked as the dust filled the room. "H-ha! HA ha ha ha! I knew it! I knew that he was just another piece of trash who didn't know his-" Then, the dust cleared, and instead of looking down at a crater created by his blast, Rote was standing right in front of him. He gave a shocked gasp, flinching as he felt one palm on his armor.

"Cute." Rote then unleashed a powerful energy blast at point blank. The boy was sent flying through the air before he crashed onto the ground, pummeled by the full brunt of power that came from the Elite Saiyan. When it was done, the Prince couldn't move, gasping for breath, with each breath feeling heavy and painful. Rote slowly levitated down in front of the Saiyan Prince, a hole in his armor and the flesh underneath suffering from a severe burn, with noticeable bruising upon both his flesh and the bone underneath.

"You're lucky I didn't use both hands." Rote said as King Vegeta left his chair, his boots echoing through the throne room as he approached his down son. "Otherwise, you'd be dead." Rote watched as King Vegeta walked past him. His face was stoic, but his eyes told Rote that this was about what he expected from his son. The Elite had to admit that the Prince showed promise. If some other 7-year-old tried to fight him, the first jab he threw would've been it and he would already be on his way. He had to commend him for that, at least.

The King of all Saiyan's grabbed his son's hand and began to pour his own energy into him. The King felt he wasn't in too bad condition to just spend a quarter of an hour in the healing pod. His bruises began to fade and his internal injuries patched themselves up. Once the Prince's injuries were healed and the pain had stopped, he began to pick himself off of the ground. Young Vegeta's eyes were hollow and empty, Rote having effectively shown the Prince of the gap that was between the two of them. He couldn't look Rote, or his father, in the eye, but Rote could see the seething hate that raced through his veins.

"Do you understand your position now, my son?"

"..."

"Answer me!"

"Yessir..." The Young Vegeta was still somewhat defiant, but he gave a solemn nod.

King Vegeta nodded and looked towards Rote. "I'll prepare a new armor set for him when you take him to the desert. Outside of that, only what you deem appropriate will accompany him."

"The armor will be enough, my liege." Rote said simply, "for the Prince's training, he won't be needing anything other than proper clothes and armor." Young Vegeta sucked his teeth at the declaration as Rote shot him a quick glance. "Oh, and that reminds me: since he is going to be my ward for some time, I believe it's time I showed the two of you how I keep Saiyan's under me in line." The Prince looked up at his new mentor as Rote told him, "now strip."

"I beg your pardon?!"

"You've been nothing but a disrespectful brat since I've come here." Rote spoke plainly as King Vegeta took out a scouter and began to speak commands to lower ranking Saiyan's, telling them to fetch another blue bodysuit and armor for his son. "And now, I will show you just how I deal with disrespectful Saiyans who don't understand their place. Now strip."

Prince Vegeta gawked in disbelief and turned to his Father as he got off of his scouter. His face demanded his father to do something, but when King Vegeta turned down towards his son, he was only met with a scowl that caused the child to recoil. Rote crossed his eyes, glaring down upon the Prince expectantly.

"Well?"

Through grit teeth, Vegeta began to take off his ruined armor allowing it to drop onto the ground before he began to take off his gloves, then his boots. The young boy peeled off his unitard. His face felt hot as he stripped himself of his clothes and felt as though he was being stripped of his very pride.

With the last of his clothes falling onto the floor, the young Saiyan Prince stood there bare and naked, with nothing but his tail to hide what little modesty he had. He was shaking, both from rage and out of his own humiliation-and it didn't help that the throne room felt suddenly incredibly cold. He watched Rote intensely as the Elite-Class Warrior suddenly sat down onto the floor, legs crossing over themselves.

"Alright, boy. Now, come here"

"W-what?"

Rote told him, "get over here and put yourself across my lap, with your tail in the air." The Prince's face was red. He wanted to shout that he would never do such a thing. This was beneath him! But with his father's glare behind him and Rote's own hardened stare cutting right through him, the young Prince had no choice but to obey. And so, he walked against the cold floor below him, pulling himself across Rote's lap, lying flat on his stomach with his butt hanging in the air and his tail tightly wrapping around his waist.

The Elite Saiyan noticed the confused look that he was getting from the King, but he didn't think too hard on it. This was what King Vegeta agreed to and it was time he showed the Saiyan Royalties just what the Prince would be getting into.

"Don't move." Rote raised a hand into the air and with a heavy 'CRACK' that shook the air, the palm of his hand had struck the young Prince's behind! A loud cry came from Prince Vegeta's mouth, the child quickly trying to get up and away from Rote's hand, but the Saiyan Elite held him down with his free hand. "I said not to move."

"Let go of me! I SAID LET ME GO!" Young Vegeta tried to get up, but he could hardly get any leverage from his position. Even if he did, it would be futile, as Rote's strong and heavy hand kept the Prince in place. Rote's strong hand continued to smack away at the royal ass. Every smack was slow, but heavy. Another smack would land, five seconds that gave Vegeta barely enough time to catch her breath and recover from the fading burn in his ass, then another smack would and right on top of it. "F-FATHER, MAKE HIM STOP!"

"So, how will this technique help?" The Prince was flabbergasted to hear his father not calling for guards to decapitate the Saiyan that was spanking him. This was a crude and idiot method that was used by weaker races, not something befitting of a Saiyan, let alone the Prince of all Saiyans!

"GAAAAA!"

Ever calmly and with his hand continuing to smack away at Prince Vegeta's butt, Rote began to explain, "it's establishing discipline." His firm hand began to roughly grab at the tender flesh, getting the Prince to cringe and give a pathetic whine. "The ass can be firmed, but it'll always be a vulnerable spot for an assault. At the same time, it'll heal relatively quickly, so there's little chance of permanent damage." His hand then let go of Young Vegeta's ass, giving another hard smack that had the Prince howl. "And of course, the pain is negative feedback to help drive home that his poor behavior is unacceptable."

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" Another smack had landed upon the Prince's ass, getting another angry scream from the Saiyan noble, who was kicking his little legs onto Rote's rear. His ass was starting to turn a hot pink color, but Rote had decided that this punishment was going too slow.

Rote turned to the King and simply told him, "Watch." Rote's hand suddenly picked up its pace. Smacks landed hard and fast, getting louder cries from the young Prince, who desperately kicked to try and get away, but to no avail. Prince Vegeta was effectively helpless as Rote's hand painted his ass a harsh red color.

"ST-STOP! STOP IT!" Hot tears burned Vegeta's eyes as they began to pour down his face and started to stain Rote's own unitard. He pounded away at his knee, but in this moment, although the young Prince couldn't realize it, his fists felt weak as he thrashed about. King Vegeta was astonished as the young Prince was brought down to a more manageable level; that of a Low-Class child.

"From now on, you will address me as 'Sir'." Rote instructed, his hand aiming lower and smacking away at the small boy ass's under curves that connected the butt to the hips. "You will speak to me with respect as your superior," Vegeta howled desperately, bucking and trying to crawl away but all Rote had to do was put pressure on the small of his back to keep him from going anywhere, "and only when I speak to you, or you will not speak at all." Vegeta was giving dry shouts into the air that no doubt echoed through the castle. His legs twitched and weakly bucked the air as his toes curled in desperation. "Is that clear?" His hands were clutching Rote's pants, desperately trying to hang onto some semblance of pride as the young Saiyan grit his teeth. Every cry was filtered through desperate hisses and every scream was being muffled, but were no less loud and ear-piercing.

"Maybe I wasn't clear." Rote's hand was starting to heat up with energy as the next smack of his hand cracked against the prince's ass, an overwhelming heat overcoming Vegeta's flesh as he cried out through grit teeth. Tears flowed down his face freely, the prince forming a pathetic puddle of tears onto Rote's leg that began to flow down onto the ground below.

In a moment of weakness, the young Prince looked up from Rote's lap and stared into the eyes of his father. Teary eyes looked up pathetically to the King of Saiyans, asking-BEGGING-for help and for this torture to end! But instead of mercy in his father's eyes, Prince Vegeta saw nothing but a cold glance that struck the boy's heart, much like how another smack struck his ass and brought the young boy to gasp desperately for air, heaving and wheezing like a wounded cub.

"I don't recall hearing an answer from you, boy." Another smack, Rote was building a rhythm that had young Vegeta thrash pathetically. "When I address you, you respond." Vegeta could no longer endure; he was screaming in agony, sobbing openly as Rote's hand branded his flesh. "I said, 'is that clear'?"

"I-IT IS! I-IT IS CLEAR!"

Rote gave another smack against Vegeta's burning red ass, his open crying echoing through the throne room. "'Is it clear' what?"

"CLEAR, SIR! IT'S CLEAR, SIR!" Vegeta bawled like the child he was, his pride as a Saiyan-as the prince of all Saiyans. He begged, "PL-PLEASE, SIR! I-I CAN'T TAKE ANYMORE!" Vegeta howled, hiccups erupting from his weak throat as he pitifully tried to escape from his punishment, but Rote would not yield.

"And how are you going to address me?" Prince Vegeta's howls managed to ring over the spanks Rote was giving, but he would not yield. No, he couldn't stop just because he was sorry; he had to keep going until he was sure the punishment was over and Vegeta properly learned who was in charge. It ended when he decided so, not the brat across his knees. Rote stole a glance at King Vegeta, quickly scanning his hardened face. His face didn't say it, but the small and quick nod that the king gave back at him told Rote that he approved of this method. Perfect.

"WITH RESPECT! AAAA-AA-AAAAAAAH!"

"That's because...?"

"B-B-BECAUSE YOU'RE MY SUPERIOR! WAA-A-AAAAAAH!" Prince Vegeta could hardly speak while he was choking on his tears, but with each smack that sent pain radiating through the young boy's body, he found the strained words. His screams echoed through the halls as Vegeta limply submitted to his mentor.

And then, it stopped.

Young Vegeta wept openly, he didn't even notice Rote's hand had stopped crashing against his burning ass. It had gone from a soft cream color to a dark red, decorated with angry bruises. His legs trembled and he was gasping for breath.

"Now stand." Vegeta could hardly register Rote's command, but with shaking arms and knees that felt weak, the Prince started to push himself off of Rote's lap. He sobbed weakly, but managed to stand at attention as he faced towards his father, unable to properly look him in the eye as the boy stared at the floor below. Rote then stood up himself and faced the king himself. "Satisfied, my liege?"

"Very much so."

Those words burned themselves into the back of the Prince's mind, much like how his ass was burning

"I'll see to it my son is dressed for your departure."

"Excellent." Rote nodded, turning from the throne. "I'll be waiting outside of the castle for him." Rote then began to walk off. As the sound of his steps echoed through the hall, every step brought the young Prince to flinch.

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With arms crossed and his modest sack packed and hanging over his shoulder, Rote didn't have much time to wait. In a mere five minutes, the wide doors opened. He turned and watched Prince Vegeta approach him. He was in new armor, but it didn't bear the crest of the royal family, nor did it have a crimson cape latched onto it. The young boy was in a new unitard, face still a faint pink with blush and Rote noticed each step was labored. He fought the urge to smirk, no doubt he was in distress from the unbearably tight suit that he was no-doubt forced into, tightly constricting his young body-and no doubt uncomfortably rubbing his burning ass with the rough fabric.

"From hence force, the title of Prince no longer matters." Rote reiterated, "you'll only be addressed by name and not by title. Do you understand."

Rote heard the young Prince say...something, but he mumbled it under his breath. He knew he said 'yes sir', but there was no way he'd accept that. raised an eyebrow. He quickly grabbed Vegeta by his arm and pulled him close, raising an open palm and landing three swats across his blue-clad ass.

"GAAAH! OW! OWOWOWOW!"

"Speak up, brat!"

"Y-YES SIR! YES SIR!" Rote gave a nod as he let go of the Prince, who began to dance on his toes and quickly began to rub the sting from his burning ass as tears sprang and began to flow down his face anew.

"Don't think that being in public means that I won't take the time to tan your ass again." Rote warned, "in fact, I might just give a worse punishment if you dare to misbehave in public. He watched Vegeta glare at him with tearful eyes, but Rote paid it no mind. "Am I clear?"

"C-crystal, sir."

"That's better." Rote nodded, "now come." Rote began to float off of the ground and flew into the air, with Vegeta, albeit reluctant, following. They would begin to raise higher and higher until they were above the Saiyan city and the two of them began to head east. "Now keep up." Rote took off in a flash of light as the young Prince followed after him. They soared over the buildings down below until they were out of the city's boundaries.

In moments, the city was out of view, not that either Saiyan bothered to look back. Vegeta dared not look back upon the city, both out of fury of how his father had left him to his fate and a twinge of fear in case Rote would look back and find a reason to punish him for not paying attention or looking straight or some such nonsense that brought the Prince's blood to a boil.

Rote didn't look back, nor did he really care for afternoon sun that was high in the sky. It was hot, but neither he or his new ward cared. Saiyan's were a resilient race, they were hardy; intense heat or cold hardly bothered them-or rather, they were tough enough to endure it, even if their bodies wanted to give out.

The two flew in silence for what couldn't have been more then minutes when the heat began to rise. Rote hardly flinched, but Vegeta noticed, but didn't raise an objection. A quick glance and he could see they were flying over the crimson desert of Planet Vegeta; the wasteland looked lifeless, but the Prince, despite his title, knew better. He had never stepped foot into the desert, but he knew where his food came from and knew that there were pretty large beasts for Saiyan's to hunt.

"There." Rote began to descend, with Vegeta right on his heels. He scanned left to right, but saw nothing but the incoming cave. There was a hole carved into the side of a mountain, obviously burned in with energy. It was surprisingly intricate; hardly the work of a crude savage trying to survive. The cuts entrance way was cleanly and evenly cut, with a steel door to keep people out. As their boots touched down on the scorching sand, Vegeta couldn't help but marvel at the craftsmen's ship, but upon remembering just who's home this was, his impressed gaze turned into a heavy scowl.

Rote smirked a bit at that, but he didn't show it to the Prince. He started to lead Vegeta to the door and after pressing buttons on a control panel, the door slid open upward. Torches lid the way down the corridor, Rote leading the way down with the prince behind him. Vegeta looked from wall to wall; sharpened swords and heavy axes lined them along with energy blasters and various building tools. Vegeta had taken Rote as nothing more than a savage, yet with each step, he was shown more and more just how ill-conceived the notion was.

They turned a corner and walked down another hall into a room. It was small, with a table and bench for eating. A healing pod was in the corner, big enough to contain a Saiyan twice Rote's size, along with a compartment that looked like a fridge. The Prince held back the urge for his mouth to water; he had been training all day and hadn't eaten when he returned home. And with the crackling of fire in another room, the young Prince just wanted to eat his fill.

But instead, before he could say anything, Rote was already pulling out a plate of some kind of meat on a large place. Vegeta moved to follow, but Rote was quick to say, "I don't know what you're excited for."

"...Pardon?"

"It's not time to eat yet." Rote began to set up the food over the fire. "It'll take time before it's properly cooked all the way through. So, in the meantime, we're going to descend to the bathing area."

"What?!" Vegeta whined, "can't we just eat now?!" When Rote looked over his shoulder and stared down the prince, a shiver went up his spine-and a fearful tingle made his ass tremble with fear.

"Are you raising your voice to me?" Rote said, finishing his task and turning to face the Prince.

Vegeta meekly looked at the floor as he mumbled, "n-no, sir."

"Good." Rote nodded, "now then, you eat after we bathe. Not before. Be thankful I'm not sending you out into the desert to find your own food." Rote pointed to another corridor, "now march?"

"Y-yes, sir!" Vegeta hurried down to the steps and descended down the corridor, his heart beat racing and echoing within his ears. As much as he wanted to object to this, he didn't want to risk Rote's wrath. They were led down by overhead lights, the smell of freshwater hitting Vegeta's nose before they entered a large room. It looked like an underground spring almost, with water filling a large lake.

With a loud 'CLING', Rote had let his Saiyan armor drop to the floor and Vegeta's heart was immediately filled with dread. Rote gave Vegeta an expecting look and, although reluctantly, Vegeta began to take off his own armor. Gloves and boots followed before both Saiyan's peeled off their unitards.

"I-I can bathe myself, you know..." Vegeta mumbled once he had, again, taken off all of his clothes. This time organizing them and putting them aside to be worn later, along with his armor. His face was scarlet; he had never bathed with other Saiyan's in his presence before. He had heard it was common among Saiyan's, and Lower-Class children were expected to bathe with each other and with their older handlers all the time, especially on missions. But the Prince enjoyed a certain amount of privilege, one that allowed him the blessing that was privacy.

"I'm well aware." Rote said, doing the same with his own clothes. "But I need to bathe as well." Rote had grabbed two bars of soap and began to walk to the lake, "and besides, I need to keep an eye on you. To make sure you don't wander off or do anything you shouldn't." The Prince grit his teeth, fighting the urge to growl at the adult Saiyan before he began to step into the water. A shivered a bit as the cold water touched his feet and crawled up his legs, but he was quick to get over it.

"Now catch." Rote tossed Vegeta a bar of soap, which the Saiyan managed to catch in his hands. "We're going to be in here for an hour. So, wash up right."

"Yes, sir..." He hissed the words from his lips, but the young boy began to scrub himself with the soap. The two did so in silence; for the young Prince, it was an uncomfortable silence, bathing in an ice bath. At the very least, the cold water made his burning-red ass feel so much better. As he started to actually enjoy his soak in the cold water, the Saiyan Prince noticed that Rote had turned his back to him.

A wicked smirk came over Vegeta's face. Making sure that Rote couldn't see him, he charged up an energy ball underneath the water, aimed right for the man's own butt. He was seeing red and was determined to make Rote feel what he did. Vengeance was on his mind and when he was done charging, he fired it, sending it flying through the water like a bullet. Vegeta was sure it would hit directly, but in a sudden burst of speed, Rote had spun in place and deflected the blast, sending it flying to the ceiling.

As a small explosion echoed through the spring, terror began to overcome Vegeta. He looked into Rote's glaring eyes as the young Prince started to slowly back away, but Rote's eyes were focused right on him, almost daring him to run.

And so, he did.

Vegeta span around and tried to fly away at his top speed, but Rote was on top of him almost in an instant, grabbing the Prince's wrists and keeping him from going anywhere. Vegeta gave out a small shriek, struggling and kicking about as his new mentor held him in place.

"L-LET ME GO! L-LET ME GO!"

"Now Vegeta, what made you think that attacking me in the water would be a good idea?" Rote scolded the now thrashing Prince, forcing him out of the air and down to the ground, holding his wrists like a vice. "Did you truly think I wouldn't notice? And did you honestly think I wouldn't punish you for this?"

"LET ME GO! YOU DESERVED IT!"

"Oh, I did, did I?" The Two naked Saiyan's started up the steps, Vegeta yelling the entire time as he dragged his feet. No matter how hard he pulled and tried to resist, Rote had no problem with dragging him around. Despite his protests and cries, Rote had said, "did I deserve it for spanking you? For bringing you out here with the purpose of training?"

"J-JUST LET ME GO!" Vegeta peered ahead in dread as they reached the room with the fireplace. His eyes grew wide as he watched Rote walk over to a nearby wooden chair. As he began to set it up near the fireplace, Vegeta cried out, "N-NO! YOU CAN'T DOT HIS TO ME!"

"Oh, yes I am." Rote reached over to the mantle above the fire. "But this time, I'm going to introduce you to something special, boy." He grabbed something that was just out of Vegeta's sight, but when Rote held it up; Vegeta's eyes went wide. He had only gotten a spanking today, but when he saw the leather strap in Rote's hand, seeing him double it over with one hand, it became very clear as to what Rote's intentions were.

"N-NO! ST-STOP! P-PLEASE!"

Begging. The Prince of Saiyan's was reduced to begging. It brought a small smirk to Rote's jaw. "Pleading will do nothing for you, Vegeta." He took a seat and began to force Vegeta back across his lap. "When you misbehave under my care, you will be punished for it." The water had done good for the Prince's ass, the dark red and bruises fading away to a soft pink color. Vegeta was already kicking about, but Rote used his tail. It wrapped around the kicking Prince's legs and with a strong pull, he kept the young boy from thrashing about. With legs and arms captured, Vegeta could no longer fight against Rote now.

Vegeta grit his teeth, watching Rote raise his arm up into the air, with the leather strap in hand. His heart was pounding in his chest and his toes were already curling in anticipation. With a strong swing of his mighty arm-

_'Lash!'_

"GAAAA-AAA-AAAAAAH!" Vegeta gave a loud howl, echoing through Rote's underground home, followed by the harsh crack of the belt against the prince's tender flesh. It left a harsh, red mark across his ass, but it was merely a sign of what was to come.

"You don't ever raise a hand to me, boy." Rote began to lecture as his arm continued at a slow pace, each lash of the belt leaving a painful welt within its wake as the pink color of Vegeta's ass was starting to darken, being recolored into a fiery red as leather kissed flesh.

"I-I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY!" It was worse than the last spanking. His butt was wet, and thus, was more susceptible to spreading the hot sting across his ass. The tough leather proved itself to be much more effective at burning his ass then Rote's own hand. Not that Rote's hand was soft or his wrist limp, no, it was just naturally tougher than calloused flesh. Combined with the strong swing of the Elite Saiyan's powerful arm, it left Vegeta as a screaming mess while he struggled over Rote's lap, unable to escape his grasp, and thus, not able to even squirm or make a futile attempt at steering his ass away from the powerful belt.

"Oh? You're sorry?" Rote sneered at the Prince as the belt continued to land powerful lashes against Vegeta's tender rear. "You're sorry for attacking me from behind, are you?" The belt started to land faster and Rote's aim was true, going up and down the Prince's bouncing tush as hot tears were already streaming down Vegeta's damp face. Water sprayed through the air as every lash of the strap painted Vegeta's ass.

"Y-YES! Y-YES, I'M SORRY!" Vegeta's blubbering brought no mercy from Rote. In fact, it only brought the lashes lower, onto the tender under curves of his bottom once again. Vegeta screamed in agony and kicked about, desperately trying to squirm and slip away, but he was effectively trapped.

"No, no you're not sorry." Rote scolded, "you're just sorry that you got caught. You're sorry that you're being punished. But rest assured, I'll make you sorry." Rote's lashes across sensitive flesh brought desperate shouts into the air, the Young Prince belting out incoherent pleads for mercy that Rote ignored. He could see that Vegeta's ass was already starting to get hot from the constant assault. His little butt was heating up fast and turning a harsh shade of unforgiving red.

But Rote was far from done. Vegeta could feel himself being shifted from over the Elite Saiyan's lap. He was pulled up and flipped over, lying on his back, arms still held back and now his legs were being elevated up into the air. The Prince weakly squirmed, giving fearful hiccups as he tried to get away, but Rote held him steady. His glowing, ruby butt was sticking out, Vegeta's face starting to turn red with humiliation. It was like he was being lied down to be changed like some kind of infant!

Without another word, Rote's strap continued to lash at Vegeta's upturned ass. In such an indecent position, Vegeta had even less room to squirm and now all of his sensitive spots were fully exposed to the leather strap. Each lash had him shriek in desperation. Rote's aim was slowly moving up Vegeta's backside, from his unprotected cheeks to those delicate curves where most of his weight would fall when sitting. The lashing there wouldn't last for long, however, as Rote began to pain Vegeta's left thigh pink with the lash.

"You're a very naughty boy, Vegeta." The condescending tone made Vegeta feel so much smaller. He gave a futile attempt to grit his teeth and try to bear both the pain and humiliation, but he gave a dry gasp and screamed once more. "You're a spoiled brat. A selfish child who doesn't understand how to behave like proper Saiyan, let alone as a member of royalty." Once his thigh was red and Vegeta was pathetically simpering, Rote moved onto the opposite and brought Vegeta to another round of wailing cries.

"I believe your Father allowed this, allowed me to discipline you as a Low-Class child, because he knew that you needed something to bring you to heel." A strong lash brought Vegeta to choke out desperate sobs. "It wouldn't be enough for him to do this to you. No, you needed something more extreme." The lashing was going faster and his thigh was quickly starting to match the other, a fiery red that matched the rest of his ass. "I won't just make you stronger. I will make you a disciplined warrior. You may never thank me for this, but I'm sure this will do you words of good."

Rote didn't know if Vegeta heard his lecture through heavy sobs and desperate screams. The Elite Saiyan had finally stopped the strapping and had hung the implement over the back of his chair. Vegeta continued his heavy crying and wailing, even after Rote released his limbs and allowed the Saiyan Prince to roll over and land on his arms and knees as he sobbed onto the floor. He huffed and puffed and tried to collect his breath, but every breath was quick and shaky.

How long had he been on that floor? The Prince couldn't tell. For him, it felt like an eternity as his flesh sizzled from the burn, but it was far less than that; a mere five minutes. He had managed to collect his breath and regain some kind of composure. And as he took a deep breath through his nose, the hot smell of meat brought him to open his still watery eyes and gaze upon the plate of cooked meat on the floor. It looked much like a steak, but Vegeta had no way of knowing just what kind of creature it came from. He supposed it was some sort reptile that lived in the desert, but he didn't have the time to think on it, because he heard Rote's voice.

"You're free to join me at the table if you want." The older Saiyan hadn't bothered to get dressed. Vegeta looked up and saw him sitting at the table, an action that was far from Vegeta's mind. Nor did he feel comforted by Rote's tone, even if it was neutral and didn't show any hint of malice. After being spanked twice by the Elite Saiyan, he didn't trust him. He hardly even trusted the food that was before him.

Sadly, though, he was hungry and began to quickly stuff food into his mouth. He refused to say this out loud, but damn did hot food not feel good in his empty stomach.

Before Vegeta was halfway done with his plate, he noticed Rote stand up and was already making his way to another room. "You're free to sleep wherever you want, just not on the table." Rote took another staircase down, "and don't bother trying to escape. That door was built to contain me and you'll need a code to open it." He didn't hear a reply from Vegeta, but he figured he wouldn't wanna speak up to him.

Rote had brought himself to his room-or, at least, the chamber in which he slept in. It was a simple bed with a mattress and a cover he wouldn't bother to pull up over himself. He closed his eyes, but he knew it'd be a while before he fell asleep. Even after all he had done through the day, it always took him a while to get some sleep. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. It was't that he was naturally restless or his bed wasn't comfortable, it always just took him time to fall asleep.

Then, he heard something. Without the sound of the entrance door opening or breaking down, he was sure it was just Vegeta. With his 6th-sense heightened, he prepared himself for whatever underhanded attack he though the Prince would try to throw while he was asleep, his next lecture already being written in his mind. I mean, he couldn't have been lying for more than an hour at best. He wouldn't have hit a deep sleep even if he was.

But instead of feeling the malicious intent of a kick or Galick Gun, he felt the young Prince hover over him before landing himself on his chest. With a snort and a low groan, he began to curl himself up on top of Rote, almost like a cat. A very angry cat.

He could hear Vegeta's soft breathing as Rote opened up one eye. He truly was cuddling up to his chest, soundly asleep. Rote tried to coax the child off of him with his tail, gently prodding it against Vegeta's, but perhaps on instinct, Vegeta's tail wrapped around his own.

The Elite Saiyan held back a chuckle. That was pretty cute, he had to admit. He carefully brought one arm and rested it on Vegeta's back, keeping him close to him as he felt the young Prince nuzzle up to him. A small smile was on his face before Rote started to drift off to sleep.


End file.
